


Deadpool Prompt

by KeybladeNinja



Category: Deadpool (2016), Deadpool (Comics), Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel
Genre: 10 minute prompts, Deadpool's Voices, Prompt: "Son of a bitch!", just a quick prompt I found, literally lasts like two seconds, some blood, something to keep me writing, tiny sliver of fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 08:16:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13267392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeybladeNinja/pseuds/KeybladeNinja
Summary: I've decided to take ten-fifteen minutes to write when I can. I'll find a prompt and choose a show/movie/whatever I like and just write. Hopefully, these will keep me writing when I can't work on full chapters for any of my WIPs.





	Deadpool Prompt

**Author's Note:**

> I've decided to take ten-fifteen minutes to write when I can. I'll find a prompt and choose a show/movie/whatever I like and just write. Hopefully, these will keep me writing when I can't work on full chapters for any of my WIPs.

A sudden crash woke you up, leaving you jumping up on instinct and nearly falling off your bed. Heart racing, pumping adrenaline and fear through your veins viciously, you grab the bat you have hidden behind the nightstand. Getting into prime swinging position, you creep your way towards the bedroom door. Praying that it was just gravity being a bitch and knocking stuff over in your small apartment, you crack open your door slowly, eyes trying to adjust in the darkness. Maybe you should've gotten a dog like your parents had said.

A solid dark shape makes it way to the kitchen, arms flailing a little. You can hear some quiet, harsh muttering from the person as they walk about your home in the dark. Thankfully, your floors were thickly carpeted until the kitchen so you didn't make any noise as you crept up behind the shadow slowly. Rearing back, you swing hard into the person's head. Or at least, you tried for their head, but you were slightly shaky and ended up hitting their shoulder and arm.

" **Son of a bitch**!" the person hissed, grabbing the bat and pulling you towards them while maneuvering you onto the floor with a single throw. Your back smacks against the floor, your head (thankfully) hitting the carpet hard enough to hurt but not injure. Breath explodes from your lungs on impact as you bring your hands up to protect yourself. "Shit," came the voice, trying to tug your arms down.

[Way to go, asshole. You scared her and threw her against the ground.]

{You manage to screw everything up somehow. Should've just knocked on the door like a normal person. Oh wait, we're not normal.}

The voices that filter through your mind, make you stop struggling. "Wade?!" you ask, going limp against the floor.

"The one and only, Baby! Well, I mean, I guess there's more Wade's out there. None of them as cool as me, but you know, they can try- Wait, how'd you know my name? I didn't tell you," he rambles, his mask stretching and pulling as he talked. He seemed to be decked out in normal clothes for once (even if they still covered most of his skin) with his Deadpool mask and gloves for his hands.

_Shit,_ you still hadn't told him you could hear his thoughts and his other voices sometimes. Good thing that he was Deadpool and not some normal guy. "Wade," you sigh, "you're on Craigslist. Name and phone number, everything."

[You're such an idiot.]

{Why did we come here again?}

"Right," he mumbles, still looking at you with a slight head tilt.

You narrow your eyes at him. "How did you even know where I live?"

[You're about two minutes from passing out, make it quick would you?]

"Mercenary, remember? Finding people's part of the job." He moves to help you up from the floor, and you notice he wobbles slightly.

"And what are _you_ doing here?" you ask the next logical question. Hearing his voices and seeing him, you could tell he was injured.

"Uhh..." he grumbles, scratching the back of his head. "The company?"

[Oh, yeah. _Real_ convincing.]

"You're hurt," you tell him, standing up. At his questioning silence, you look down at the small puddle of blood on your kitchen floor.

"Explosions are a bitch, everything flying everywhere and things fallin' on you, things puncturing delicate parts of the body... Really, 10/10 would recommend avoiding if you can, but damn they're fun to make," Deadpool rambles on as he sways on his feet, trying to stand normally. "I'll clean that up-" he stumbled a bit, before his knees buckled and he fell to the floor, unconscious.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! <3  
> Comments make me happy!!


End file.
